


Honey and Steel

by HumsHappily, janto321 (FaceofMer), MerHums



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Bottom Mycroft, Car Sex, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Johncroft, M/M, Rimming, Rough Sex, Top John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-16 00:58:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3468464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HumsHappily/pseuds/HumsHappily, https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MerHums/pseuds/MerHums
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>John swore as the black car pulled up to the kerb. His date had gotten upset, thrown her drink in his face. Slapped him for good measure on the way out. Why? Because John was ‘cheating’ on her. With who, he didn’t know. No matter that he and Cindy had only gone on three dates anyway. He barely knew the woman. And now Mycroft was here, for the fifth time in just as many days. Exhaling deeply, John stomped over, yanking open the car door. Mycroft blinked in surprise, turning to look at him.<i></i></i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honey and Steel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eveningsoother (WhichWolfWins)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhichWolfWins/gifts).



____________________________________

Sherlock looked up as John stamped into the flat, anger thrumming through his small frame. The doctor slammed the door behind him, causing petri dishes to rattle in the kitchen. 

“That’s the third time this week Sherlock.”

“What?”

“The third bloody time. Tell your brother to piss off would you? Stop kidnapping me on the way home from work.” 

“I expect he believes that you have some sweets tucked away in your pocket.” Sherlock shrugged, turning back to the newspapers he was pinning to the wall. John growled, moving into the kitchen to rummage through the fridge.

“Bloody ridiculous.” he mumbled, pulling out leftovers for dinner. Sherlock gave a gasp of delight and ran into the kitchen, sliding open a drawer and pulling out a wicked looking dagger. 

“John! The jeweler! Not the gardener! Brillant. Call Lestrade, tell him we’re on the way.” 

He swirled out of the kitchen in a flash of excitement, waving the knife in his hand. John swore, grabbing the lo mein carton and a pair of throw-away chopsticks on his way back out the door. 

______________________________  
John slammed the empty pint glass down on the table, signalling the bartender for another.  
“I’m telling you Greg, it’s weird.”

“Waa that?” Greg slurred, working his mouth as he focused his blurry eyes. The poor man was three pints and a shot ahead of John, the doctor having showed up rather late to Dimmock’s bachelor party after Mycroft snagged him off the street again. 

“The way he looks at me. Like...I’m edible. Like he wants to tear me apart, see everything that makes me tick. Like Sherlock on a case.” 

John hiccuped, and frowned. Perhaps he was drunker than he thought. 

“Maybe he does.” Greg said, nodding sagely. 

“Mycroft? Nooo.” John scoffed at the man.

“You never know” Greg replied, head drooping into his pint. 

“At least he has a fantastic body.”

Greg sighed in response, clucking his tongue. “Yeah”

______________________________

“Sherlock!” John was soaking wet, crabby, and rather chilled. He had been walking home, ignored by the cabbies for a good half a kilometer before Mycroft scooped him up for the fourth time that week. And had taken him home. Without saying a word. Again.

“Oh. Hello, John. I see Mycroft gave you another “lift” home.”

Sherlock was standing at the kitchen table, examining the small flames licking at the surface. John stared as Sherlock poured a glass of water on the table, causing the flames to jump even higher. 

“Yes, he did, but why the hell is the table on fire?” John asked, head tilted in disbelief. 

“Experiment.”

“Sherlock!”

“It’s fine, John. It should go out in approximately…” Sherlock glanced over at the clock on the stove. “One hour. Anyway, at least Mycroft got you out of the rain.” 

“Why is he doing this? He doesn’t even say anything to me, just sits there and stares!”

“John, I don’t pretend to understand Mycroft’s actions. He’s far too stupid.”  
Sherlock said, pushing John out of the kitchen and back towards the flat door. The detective cringed at the sound of a loud -POP- from behind them. “Also, we really ought to, um, leave for a bit.” 

“Sherlock, what was that?” 

“Ahh...that would be the sulfur spilling over. It’s about to get very…”

John doubled over, gagging as Sherlock cringed, rushing to open the windows. 

______________________

John swore as the black car pulled up to the kerb. His date had gotten upset, thrown her drink in his face. Slapped him for good measure on the way out. Why? Because John was ‘cheating’ on her. With who, he didn’t know. No matter that he and Cindy had only gone on three dates anyway. He barely knew the woman. And now Mycroft was here, for the fifth time in just as many days. Exhaling deeply, John stomped over, yanking open the car door. Mycroft blinked in surprise, turning to look at him.

“You. Move over.” John prodded the man, pushing at him. Mycroft obeyed, sliding over. “Start talking. I’ve had a bad day, and either explain what you want or feck off.” John growled, plucking at his shirt. It would have to come off. He sighed, and tugged his jumper over his head, taking the undershirt with it. 

Mycroft couldn’t help but stare as John bared his chest. He’d grown a bit soft with the civilian life, but clearly was still in good shape. His left arm didn’t raise the same way as his right and he still favored it as he got the jumper over his head, leaving the blond hair disheveled and slightly damp. And John was glaring at him with a look that would quail lesser men. Mycroft’s tongue darted out to wet his lips as he met his gaze.

John saw Mycroft licking his lips as he removed his shirt. And everything clicked into place. He gave a dark chuckle. “This is why you’ve been following me around isn’t it? You’re interested.” Mycroft’s eyes widened as he shook his head. “Come now, Mycroft don’t lie.” The car began to move and John slid from the seat, crawling over to kneel between Mycroft’s slightly splayed legs. John smirked, sliding his hands up the man’s thighs as he rose up, balancing his weight on them. “What is it Mycroft? Do you want me to take you apart? Unwrap you from each of your three piece suits?” John leaned in, breath warm on Mycroft’s ear. “Fuck you till you’re begging me to let you come? You know I’d make it good, don’t you?” 

With a shivering breath, Mycroft brought his hands up to rest on John’s thighs, feeling the strength in them. He was glad the barrier between himself and his driver was thick.

“Tell me, Mycroft.” John murmured. “Are you excited for this? I can’t help but wonder…” John leaned back, licking his lips slowly. “Always in the car. Always in the presence of someone else. Do you want them to know what I’m doing to you?” John raised an eyebrow and grinned. “How long do you think the driver would last before he got hard? Listening to me fuck you?” John ran his hands up Mycroft’s chest to rest on his shoulder. “Hearing his boss beg me to fuck him like the little slut I know is hiding beneath all those layers?” 

“John,” Mycroft’s voice came out breathier than he intended. The soldiers hands were warm, even through the clothes he wore. All of that sounded so very, very good. And so very, very dangerous. John's voice, the way his lips curled around the word 'fuck' practically dizzying.

“Say yes, Mycroft.” John purred. “And I’ll rock your world.” The man leaned back, hands fiddling with Mycroft’s waistcoat button, flicking it open with his thumb. “Of course, I am rather upset.” He continued, sliding the fabric apart. “You’ve been toying with me. I don’t appreciate it. Might have to make you pay. I’ll promise one thing, though,” John leaned in again, hand moving up to Mycroft’s chest. “You’ll enjoy it.” He bit down gently on Mycroft’s neck, just as he pinched the man’s nipple through his shirt. “Every minute. Now, use your words, Mycroft. Tell me what you want.” John continued, teeth unclamping. 

“Yes,” he gasped, groaning with the pleasure of it. “John. You.”

“Good.” John’s voice turned from honey to steel as he moved away from Mycroft, sitting back down. “Strip.”

“John?”

“I want to see you, Mycroft. All of you.”

Mycroft nodded slowly, hands undoing his buttons.

“Good Mycroft. Now, jacket and shirt all the way off.” John spread his legs, watching as Mycroft pulled off his top and jacket. “Very nice. Now, come here.” He chuckled again as Mycroft moved to kneel between his legs. John ran his hands through Mycroft’s hair. “Come up here, My.” Mycroft obeyed, straddling John’s lap. “Now, what am I going to do with you?” John said softly, voice back to honey, thick and sweet. “Hmm? You haven’t even kissed me yet.” He raised a hand, tilting Mycroft’s chin down. “Do you want a kiss Mycroft?” 

Mycroft shook his head. That was too intimate an action. He bore no illusions that this would be anything but physical. And perhaps only once at that. It seemed he’d miscalculated. 

“Why not, My? If you don’t want this all you need to say is stop.” John’s voice was soft now, questioning. Careful, but also caring. 

Swallowing, Mycroft looked up at him. “Want this. Want you, John Watson. But I know I cannot keep you.”

“Did you ever ask?” John said simply. 

Mycroft shook his head yet again.

“Perhaps you should have.” John said. He drew his hand along Mycroft’s nape, pulling the man in. Mycroft gasped as their lips touched, John running his tongue along his bottom lip. John hummed at the taste, pulling Mycroft in closer, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. His hands drifted down to clutch at Mycroft’s arse, squeezing the flesh beneath his hands. “I want you very much.” John murmured, “And I’d absolutely adore keeping you all to myself.”

Groaning, Mycroft parted his lips for him, heart thrumming in his chest. John moved his hand around to rest on Mycroft’s chest, just above the man’s heart. “Your heart is beating so fast, My. You want more?” John said, resting his open mouth on the other man’s.

“Yes…” Mycroft breathed, wanting more of John’s hands, his breath, his cock. “John..”

“How do you want it?” John said, still breathing Mycroft’s air, still counting each pounding heartbeat with a tap of his forefinger. 

“Rough.” Mycroft murmured, needing something to ground him. Needing John to take him.

“Alright. Tell me if it’s too much.” John said, sliding his hand down, unbuttoning Mycroft’s trousers. John closed his hand around Mycroft’s cock, stroking along it’s length within the man’s pants. He chuckled at Mycroft’s gasp, the way those nails dug into the skin of his shoulders. Mycroft shuddered as John drew him out. John stared into Mycroft’s eyes as the man panted, thumb darting over the head of his cock, toying at the slit. Mycroft let out a low moan, ducking his head to seize John’s mouth. The man growled, tipping Mycroft onto the floor of the car.

Mycroft inhaled sharply as he sprawled on the baseboard, cock hanging half hard from his trousers. John smirked again and followed him down, tugging his trousers and pants down his legs. Mycroft gaped as John sat back on his heels, unbuttoning his own bottoms, sliding them just far enough down his thighs to release his hard cock. Mycroft’s twitched in response, filling so fast it was nearly a painful sensation. He was laid bare before John, and the dark hunger in the man’s eyes was enough to make his head spin. Mycroft’s eyes fluttered shut as John began to touch him. The man’s hands were warm, and he could sense the callouses from the butt of a gun, scars from the sharp blade of a scalpel. John pinched his nipples, rolling the hardening nubs between his fingers. Mycroft gave a low guttural moan, nails digging into the carpet beneath him, rough fibers pricking at his bare skin as he rolled his hips against the air. 

John let a deep breath escape him, leaning down to lick slowly across Mycroft’s pale neck. He hummed at the salty tang of the man’s skin, tongue staying out to follow a trail of freckles down. Mycroft rolled his hips again and John chuckled. “Time to let me see a little bit more of you, yeah?” 

Mycroft’s breath caught as John pushed his legs wide, spreading him. John grabbed his jacket, balling it up and sliding under his hips. Mycroft moaned, John positioning his legs so they were bent at the knee, spread wide. “Mycroft...has anyone done this to you before?”

“Done...done what?” Mycroft asked, voice trembling as he forced his eyes to open, to focus on John. 

John smiled. “Licked. You. Open.” His voice was steel again, hard and unwavering as he gazed at Mycroft’s hole. Mycroft moaned, shaking his head. “Good.” John grinned, biting at his lower lip. “You’re mine.” 

Mycroft’s eyes flashed shut again as John lowered his head, hands going to raise his hips. He could feel John’s hot breath at his hole. He jerked as John let his tongue trace around his rim, giving a low whimper. “More. John, please.” 

John gave a low hum, pressing his tongue flat, dragging up Mycroft’s crease to lap at the man’s bollocks. He took one into his mouth, sucking gently. Mycroft moaned, hands flying to fist in the soldier’s hair. John gave a low moan, and allowed his teeth to scrape along Mycroft’s skin as he withdrew, returning his attentions to the man’s arse. “So pretty for me, Mycroft. So pink and needy. Such a good slut.” Mycroft moaned again, growing louder as John lapped around his hole, finally wriggling his tongue into the center. Mycroft cried out as John penetrated him, warm tongue teasing him open as it darted in and out. John moaned in satisfaction, reaching a hand up to stroke Mycroft’s neglected cock. 

“Do you want more?” John asked, moving away, letting Mycroft’s legs fall closed. Mycroft cracked his eyes open, just in time to see John lick his lips, tongue dragging over them. 

“Yes.” He responded weakly, cock throbbing. “Please.”

John leaned over him, pressing his way between Mycroft’s thighs. “Again.”

“Please.”

“Please what?” 

“Please, John.” 

“Very nice.” John grinned wide, and captured Mycroft’s mouth. 

Dirty, dirty. Mycroft could taste himself on John’s tongue, musky, sweaty. He moaned at the sensation, John smiling against his mouth as he fucked tongue into his mouth. Their cocks were lined up and John dipped his hips, causing them both to gasp. Mycroft began to rut up shamelessly, John rocking down at the same time. 

John groaned, tearing away from Mycroft’s lips. “You will be the death of me.” He growled, eyes flashing a steely blue gray. He leaned his head down, sucking at Mycroft’s neck. “And one day soon, I’m going to fuck you so hard, you won’t be able to sit without remembering the way I felt inside you. But for now,” John said, taking Mycroft’s hand and pulling it to their joined cocks, “quick and dirty.” 

He began to stroke, moving Mycroft’s hand up and down. Mycroft gasped as John bit down at the tender skin of his shoulder joint, body trembling. “You going to come for me, Mycroft?” John murmured. “Going to cry out, let the driver know exactly what you’re doing back here?”

Mycroft whimpered, breath coming in short “ah, ah, ah’’s as their hands moved together. 

“Go on then Mycroft. Come for me.” 

Mycroft shouted out, John’s free hand clapping over his mouth as he shuddered, orgasm rushing through him. He gave a final jerk and fell still, John rocking back up on his heels, hand flying as he finished himself off. Mycroft watched through hooded eyes as John spurted, pearly white drops falling through the air. John panted, leaning down to lap at the mess he had made on Mycroft’s stomach. Mycroft whined at the slow hot drag of John’s tongue across his sensitive skin, before jerking with a sharp giggle.

John sat up. “Mycroft...are you ticklish? He narrowed his eyes, a well sated grin spreading across his face. 

“No…” Mycroft said, paling as John wiggled his fingers. “No, no, no!” 

John snorted, reaching a hand down to the man and drawing him up into his arms. “You did very well.” He whispered, petting Mycroft’s hair. Mycroft smiled against the man’s chest. 

“Thank you, John.”

“You’re welcome. But next time?” John said, voice sharpening again, “Just bloody well ask me out.”

**Author's Note:**

> A very happy birthday to a very good friend. Hope you enjoy! 
> 
> And as for the rest of you, thanks for reading!  
> Find us on tumblr at [Janto321](http://merindab.tumblr.com/) and [HumsHappily](http://hums-happily.tumblr.com/)!


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